


Because we are best friends

by GrantaireandHisBottle



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: AU, F/M, Holidays, M/M, Picnic, happiness and fluff, volleybal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrantaireandHisBottle/pseuds/GrantaireandHisBottle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am seriously, this bloody weather will be the reason of our death, believe me, not the police’s attack during the protest or a political system of France, no!” he wipes away the sweat on his forehead. “But this bloody heat!! Just look at ourselves! We are not discussing anything, we are not even talking, Grantaire is even that lazy…” he looks at the Artist. “that he isn’t even commenting the fact that Enjolras’s red boxers are visible above his jeans!!” Grantaire’s gaze immediately travels to the leaders back and eventually stops at his ass. “Is it even normal?” Jehan giggles, watching Grantaire’s smirk. “Combeferre is thinking and I have doubts that his thoughts are about our future meeting.”</p><p>The story in which Les Amis deside to relax a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because we are best friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ibbyliv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibbyliv/gifts).



> Hello, everyone) This rediculous story has been written during the awful heat and dreaming about the cool water. Do forgive me, because it is silly, AU and everyone has fun instead of changing the world. But after all not all of them are Enjolras, so they have rights to be silly sometimes. 
> 
> English is my second language, so please, be patient)

A student is not just a person, it’s a life time, an important period in the life of everyone, the turning point when one begins to realize that it is possible to change something in this world. It is very important to catch such moment, because after it is gone, the passion of the youth turns into a casual reality, like a brave kitten grows up in a lazy cat. When a person is a student, in his head ideas and thoughts are forming. Most students think about pleasures of the student life, but not all of them. We can’t blame those, who look differently at this word and its society. Every era has those, who use that fire in their heads, trying to fight. They are the lonely knights of the freedom of speech, of will, of education, of sexuality; every problem can have its own defender and shield, because there are some, who care. 

Enjolras looks at the screen of his laptop, thinking of what he has just typed for his next meeting. And deletes, not satisfied with the result.

Six students are sitting in the living-room with wide opened windows which barely helps. The heat is strong - it easily melts the asphalt outside, slowly dries all the water around and makes it is impossible for human brain to function properly. 

Combeferre is sitting on the armchair with his back to the window, reading a book. On his face there is an unreadable emotion right now, maybe because he is somewhere else in his mind, thinking, analyzing. 

He is wearing light brown bermuda shorts and a dark blue t-shirt. But even though he is feeling himself very uncomfortable and hot.

Near his armchair, on the floor are sitting Courfeyrac and Jehan. The first on is topless, his t-shirt is lying near, because the dreadful heat made Courfeyrac mad and he threw it away. Jehan is leaning against the armchair in his wide light blue, just like the sky is now, t-shirt with creamy flowers and shorts. He is writing something down with a serious face. The same face expression has his friend.

Their legs are tangled which makes them feel themselves hot, but neither Courfeyrac nor Jehan cares. 

The Sun is burning mercilessly the pale skin and harmless freckles of the young Romeo – Marius, who is now passionately reading something, his nose in the book. The skin on his upper hands has become dangerously red. But he somehow doesn’t mind, sitting with his crossed legs on the sofa.

Dark colors attract the heat more than the white one. That’s why Grantaire is silently cursing his own black curls as he sits on the floor behind the golden-haired leader, who works peacefully. It looks like the Sun doesn’t affect him at all. The cynic is drawing caricatures for the pamphlets for their student organization. His mind denies that it has made this decision without being drunk, but his own heart patiently reminds him that he agreed doing that being absolutely sober, just because he wanted to become less despised in the eyes of Apollo. He sighs and takes the third oil pen when the previous has stopped working. He even enjoys drawing figures of the students protesting or the parodies on the political system and many others. But just a little.

But when on the painfully bright sky has vanished the last cloud Courfeyrac suddenly throws his notebook away and shouts. “I can’t!!! I.” he knocks the armchair with his fist. “Just. Fucking. Can’t. Do. Anything. Anymore!!!!!”

Combeferre glares at him above his glasses, Grantaire lazily glances at him and Jehan turns his head. 

“I am seriously, this bloody weather will be the reason of our death, believe me, not the police’s attack during the protest or a political system of France, no!” he wipes away the sweat on his forehead. “But this bloody heat!!”

Enjolras nods not really paying attention, because it is not the first time when his friend has such annoyance attacks. 

“Just look at ourselves! We are not discussing anything, we are not even talking, Grantaire is even that lazy…” he looks at the Artist. “that he isn’t even commenting the fact that Enjolras’s red boxers are visible above his jeans!!” Grantaire’s gaze immediately travels to the leaders back and eventually stops at his ass. “Is it even normal?” Jehan giggles, watching Grantaire’s smirk. “Combeferre is thinking and I have doubts that his thoughts are about our future meeting.” Ferre sighs and closes his book. Courfeyrac turns to Marius, who is looking at the window with a lost gaze. “Marius is…MARIUS!!” he shouts suddenly.

The freckled boy jumps and looks at him with a terrified face. “Eh?”

“Exactly. Marius, being usual Marius. Jehan and I have been talking about Joly’s eyes, Grantaire’s ass and Marius’s lack of sex experience for the last hour!” Jehan blushes a bit when he glances at Enjolras a bit disappointed face. 

“You were silent.” The leader notes.

Courfeyrac sighs and shows a sheet of paper with his own and Jehan’s handwriting. “The only two people who are actually doing anything here is you, Enjolras and surprisingly Grantaire. Though I think he is drawing you or huge penises. Or maybe yours pe…”

Grantaire shot him an eloquent gaze and few moments later shows him one of his pictures, which he has just scratched. Jehan with interest leans forward to look at it, but Courfeyrac quickly pushes the notebook back to the Artist’s hands, his ears becoming red. 

“Sorry, Jehan, you are not mature enough to see the content of my last work. It’s for Courf’s use only.” Grantaire says, rubbing his eyes, a pen placed behind his left ear. 

“Enough.” Enjolras’s eyes flash. “What do you want from me?” he closes his laptop and turns to watch his friends.

Courfeyrac stands up from the floor and walks around the room, trying to explain the obvious thing to their leader. “It is NOT humanely to work and being concentrated in such weather conditions, mon cher ami Enjolras. My brain is more like a dead snail in its shell right now.” He stops in front of Enjolras’s desk. Grantaire tilts his head and watches Jehan’s gaze and the way he is looking at the bare shoulders and belly of Courfeyrac. That makes him chuckle. “But I have a solution for all of us. Let’s go and have some fun. Let’s go swimming.”

Marius hasn’t even realized that Cosette would be there in her swimming costume when Enjolras rolls his eyes and answers. “When was the last time you saw people swimming in the middle of Paris in the Seine River? And I mean normal, sober people.” He says annoyed.

“But there is an artificial beach which is set up each year, complete with truckloads of sands, palm trees and parasols!!” Exlaims Jehan. “Or we can go to the open air swimming pool!!”

“Yes, the open air swimming pool is even better, there must be less people.” Courfeyrac sits at the edge of the desk. 

“Petit-bourgeois Bois de Vincennes with its four lakes is also a good idea. I spent some time as a kid and there it gave me very good memories.” Combeferre adds, looking at Enjolras face. The leader narrows his eyes, realizing that he is left alone against all of them. 

“I didn’t know you can swim there.” Said Marius uncertainly. 

“Who cares?” Courfeyrac waves his hand. “Grantaire, say something, are you with us?”

The cynic has been sitting a bit horrified. At first he was sure Enjolras would be against all of that, but now, when the idea seems to be real he hesitates. His confused gaze notices Ferre. He gives him a small gentle smile and the Artist bites his lower lip. “Yes, I’ll go. How can I miss an opportunity to drown Jehan, who probably can’t swim or drive Joly mad, by drowning myself?” but behind his sarcasm Combeferre can sense shyness to be able to observe a particular someone.

“I can swim by the way.” The Poet says with his scarlet cheeks. 

Enjolras tiredly runs his hand through his hair. These people, Les Amis, can be serious, they are willing to fight for their beliefs, even to die for the idea. Every one of them, even Grantaire, though his motives are not always clear to Enjolras, has their own reasons to fight. But right now they remind him a bunch of excited kids, not even teenagers, but kids.

“We’ll play volleyball!” Jehan says happily.

“And dive!” adds Courfeyrac.

“And Cosette will make her amazing muffins and we will have a picnic!” Marius adds in loving tone with his mobile in his hands.

Grantaire just glances at Enjolras, feeling that he is blushing.

“You also need rest, Enjolras. It won’t harm you, believe me.” Ferre says, watching Enjolras, who has almost gives up. “If you ask Jolly, he will tell you that the fresh air is extremely good for your brain.”

“And the amount of the bacterias in the water too.” The cynic adds quietly. 

The golden haired Apollo sighs. “Can’t you go without me? I’d tell you how much work I have to do…” he pauses and sighs again. “But you, some why, won’t listen to me. So please go there without me.”

Courfeyrac defiantly jumps from the desk, grabs Jehan’s hand and with cold face walks to the door. “Goodbye, Enjolras. See you next week at the meeting.” The Poet sticks his tongue to Enjolras and dramatically turns away.

Marius sits on the sofa with a deep tragic on his young face, because the image of the beautiful Cosette in a swimming costume faded in the blue. 

Enjolras rolls his eyes and has a silent conversation with Ferre. Then he turns to Grantaire and notices the blushing face of the cynic. That fact confuses Enjolras even more, but as the front door opens and Courfeyrac with Jehan almost go away he cries. “Okay, okay, you kids, let’s go.”

The happy “hooray!” from Jehan, the image of an infinitive happiness on Marius face and a kind smile on Ferre’s face make Enjolras chuckle eventually. He notices Grantaire who winks at him and thinks that after all maybe it isn’t that bad idea. 

 

Next morning Cosette, Marius, Combeferre, Joly, Courfeyrac, Jehan, Grantaire and Enjolras walk out of the Metro station Porte Dorée and glances around. 

“It’s that way.” Marius says with a confident face, holding Cosette’s hand.  
“That way is Paris’s centre, which we just left, silly. Of course it’s that way.” Courfeyrac in his new sunglasses points at the opposite direction.

Combeferre with a GPS on his mobile phone silently walks forward and the rest of them join him. 

“I forgot my cream!” suddenly says Joly. 

“I have one, don’t worry.” Cosette in a light dress and a beautiful hat smiles, making Marius drool and look really silly.

They just walk all together, chatting about different things. Enjolras is walking behind Courfeyrac and Jehan when he suddenly hears the conversation between them.

“Oh, shit, I think we are running out of the…” starts Courfeyrac, a white hat on his curls.

Jehan giggles shamelessly. “I know, that’s why I bought more.”

The first one grins mischievously, fixing his checkered bow tie. Enjolras wonders if it is comfortable to have that thing tightened around his neck. “I love you.”

The Poet stops and stands on his tip toes to kiss Courfeyrac. The leader feels himself bad, for witnessing that…A hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him away. Enjolras notices tired blue eyes and a bit mocking smile.

“Don’t stare and give them a moment.” Grantaire chuckles. “You are acting like you’ve never seen them kissing.”

“I’ve seen actually. Once I opened the door of Courf’s apartment in order to take my laptop, which I had left there and…Realized that they are cutest people in love I’ve ever seen. And they act so naturally. Jehan hugs everyone around him and kisses Courf or talk about their sex without even a hint of embarrassment.” As he said that he immediately regretted, not really understanding why.

The cynic smirks. “And I thought you are supporting the freedom of love, so why are you complying? And it’s better than Marius’s lost face when Cosette is around…” he grimaces, showing vividly the usual expression on the face of their friend: a mix of a happy puppy and a ridiculously noble knight. “He is dating her for nearly..how much? Five or six months and still acts like a 13 year old boy. ”

Grantaire jumps over a small puddle on the road. The sun lights dance on his curls and cheeks, leaving a shady, always in a constant move ornaments. Somewhere ahead of their group Joly shouts at Marius to be careful and watch where he is going. Enjolras thinks about one thing. “Why were you blushing yesterday? When we were discussing the plan.”

The Artist turns his head to look at amber eyes of Apollo. “Do you really want to know the truth?” Enjolras nods. “I imagined you in your red, because it can’t be another color, swimming costume and realized that you would be looking hot.”

Enjolras stares at him and Grantaire shrugs in reply. “It’s not my fault that I am in love with you.” The leader thinks of all the times the cynic says he loves him. But he always does that in a mocking form or when he is joking, that it never sounds seriously. He glances at Grantaire once again. “Relax, I am not going to jump on you and start kissing you in the middle of the road.”

Courfeyrac, who happens to hear that phrase, chuckles as he walks near and pats Enjolras’s shoulder. “Listen more, Enjolras.” 

They just walk silently a couple of meters, breathing heavily as the Sun laughs at their attempts to fine shadows behind the trees. Suddenly Cosette gasps.

“Look!!”

Tiredly all of them notice a sandy beach, hear quiet sounds of the water, breath the fresh air and feel the excitement inside their guts which troughs away their tiredness.

“The beach. The water.” Breathless mutters Jehan with wide open eyes. “The summer. Our summer.”

Courfeyrac suddenly grins. “The one who ends up in the water the last serves our lunch.”

For a few seconds they remind silent and a bit lost, but then the realization hit them simultaneously and six grownups run to the edge of the lake, laughing and trying to reach it first. 

Actually the first person whose feet feel the coolness of the water is, of course, Courfeyrac. He has been hit by Jehan as he runs behind and both of them fall in the water, giggling like 5 year old kids. Marius and Cosette come next: the young girl jumps in the water without thinking, but freckled Romeo hesitates some why. It has been his mistake, because behind him has been flying Grantaire in all his speed, tagging Enjolras and eventually the three of them end up in the water, bodies tangled and muffed voice of Marius underneath them. Combeferre carefully stops, his ankles in the water smiling sadly as Joly enters the water at last.

Courfeyrac being completely wet but absolutely satisfied announces. “Joly. Q.E.D. you are serving our lunch, man.”

Joly sighs sadly and climbs to the beach, where all of them have left their bags and backpacks.

Enjolras spits out lots of water and shifts himself from Marius’s knee. “Are you alive there, Pontmercy?” 

Grantaire glances down at the terror on the freckled face and chuckles as Cosette comes closer to help him, without even trying to hide her laugh. 

The golden haired leader looks down at his hand, which still has been held by the cynic. Grantaire realizes that and quickly drops it. Enjolras watches him without understanding and admits that this fact annoys him a lot. Grantaire is just acting strange, mocking everything, including himself and his feelings. That’s why it is annoying Enjolras. He notices Ferre’s gaze and becomes not even annoyed, but embarrassed too. 

Ten minutes later the blanket is lying on the ground and there are standing cups with juice and cola, plates with delicious muffins, sandwiches and even pancakes. 

They sit around and Courfeyrac grabs and raises his cup. “For our summer!”

“For our summer!!” they all repeat.

As they drink Cosette starts singing, he beautiful fair hair is playing with wind, her eyes are shine with kindness and love. People on the beach look at her, admiring her voice. 

“The summer air was soft and warm   
The feeling right, the paris night   
Did it's best to please us   
And strolling down the elysée   
We had a drink in each café   
And you   
You talked of politics, philosophy and i   
Smiled like mona lisa   
We had our chance   
It was a fine and true romance ”

Jehan’s dreamily looking at Cosette, then glances at Marius and smiles, because the boy is so in love and it makes him feeling so good. His gaze travels to Ferre who is sitting near Jolly, the second one puts his head on his shoulder. Jehan’s eyes catch the sight of Grantaire, glancing at Enjolras with a sad smile. 

“I can still recall our last summer   
I still see it all   
Walks along the seine, laughing in the rain   
Our last summer   
Memories that remain ”

The Poet turns to Courfeyrac, who is sitting behind him, hugging the thin figure of the ginger student. Emerald eyes laugh happily as their souls touch each other by the tips of their lips. 

Cosette finishes and they clap, because her voice is amazing and all of them are in love. 

“Swimming.” Courfeyrac says, biting the chocolate muffin. “Let’s go swimming. And if you, Jolly, tell me that I have to wait two hours after my meal, you will be the first one I’ll drawn there.”

Jolly shuts his mouth, because he indeed wanted to say that. Grantaire chuckles and shifts himself, putting his head on Jehan’s knees. “Just don’t kiss above me guys, please.” He yawns. Jehan glances at him and leans closer, obviously to kiss the Artist. Enjolras is watching them with interest in his amber eyes, thinking how strange all of his friends are. Strange but lovely. 

“I agree, let’s go swimming and we can play volleyball in the water too.” Ferre wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“And if the ball swims away? ” Marius asks.

“Then you will swim for it, Pontmercy. ” Courfeyrac rolls his eyes, standing up. “Come on, lazy asses, let’s have some fun.”

They change their clothes, feeling the wind on their bare chests and bellies. Cosette indeed looks wonderful in her black swimming costume. Jehan notices Marius’s figure, stands on his tip toes and whispers something in Courfeyrac’s ear. Both of the students look at the freckled boy with doubt. Grantaire watches their gazes and chuckles, realizing where they are looking.

“How is he even controlling it?” the poet says quietly.

“Maybe he is a girl, God knows this Pontmercy.” Answers Courfeyrac.

Grantaire pulls of his t-shirt and as he puts it down he notices Enjolras, standing in his swimming costume. “Wait. It isn’t red? Why so, o Mighty leader? ”

Combeferre, Jehan and Courfeyrac look at Enjolras. The last one sighs. “I admit that I like the red color, but not everything I wear is red.”

“Yeah, only your boxers, vests, t-shirts, one pair of pajamas, how can you sleep in it, don’t you have nightmares? You know, all in red, like in blood.” Enjolras rolls his eyes at the cynic’s comment.

“Come on already.” And he grabs a ball and walks to the lake, carefully avoiding sandy castles that kids have built all around.

“He is hot.” Say at the same time Grantaire, Jehan, Courfeyrac and surprisingly Jolly. 

 

“Soooo, kids, be ware!!” Courfeyrac walks to the lake, the water comes to his knees. “Ferre, stand in front of me, Jehan to his right…” he looks at Marius and sighs. “Pontmercy, come here, to my right. R, near Jehan, Enjolras to my left, Cosette, love of my life, near Ferre and Jolly stand near Cosette.” He watches the circle he created. “Good. I think you know the rules, but I will remind them to Pontmercy and Jolly.” Jehan giggles and receives a splash in his face from the Medical student. “You have to beat off the ball, not to catch it. If it falls the person responsible for that leaves the circle. In the end there will be a duel between the most powerful among us…” He dramatically looks at his friends. “I think it will be me and Ferre. Or maybe me and Grantaire, because his flame in eyes make me uncomfortable. Or me and Cosette.”

“Courf, start, for pity’s sake!” Enjolras shouts at him.

“Ah, I hear panic in your voice, my young Padavan Enjolras…okay, okay.” And without warning he throws the ball to him.

The leader doesn’t really expect that, but manages to beat it off, passing to Jolly. The poor man with a funny noise passes it to Jehan, who without efforts throws it to Grantaire. The cynic with sparkle in his eyes beat it off to Marius, who of course hasn’t been expecting that. The ball falls down with a loud splash.

“And who has guessed.” Mutters Courfeyrac. “Marius Pontmercy, you aren’t skilled enough for this challenge. Goodbye.” 

Marius sighs and steps back, realizing that the view of Cosette’s figure there is even better. 

In the next round the game has become more serious and they silently pass the ball to each other.

“Someone please say something, it is unbearable to play in silence!” Jehan passes the ball to Ferre.

“Marius, stop staring and sing something.” Grantaire graciously throws the ball to Cosette. 

“Ehm… Opa gangnam style...” He strats.

“MARIUS!!” all of them shout at the same time. 

“Sorry…”

Ferre suddenly drops the ball. “Oops.” He smiles and steps back. 

“Nooo, Combeferre, don’t leave us! Not now, not you….” Courfeyrac sighs with tragically.

The battle has become even more furious. Enjolras passes the ball to Jehan, making the poor Poet falling on his knees in order to throws it.

“People are falling to your knees, Apollo, like if you are a dictator and I always…” Grantaire passes the ball to Courfeyrac. “thought you fought for freedom. Once again I was wrong.” He sighs.

Cosette with tangled hair beats the ball and Courfeyrac can’t reach it. “Noooo, you are a little devil! How could you!!” with defeated face he steps back and sits near Marius and Combeferre. Her next pass knocks Jehan. “Seriously, Marius, she must be a beast in a b…”

Courfeyrac receives some liters of the water on his face. 

So in the circle there are only three left: Cosette, Enjolras and Grantaire. “All mighty Trio.” Jehan says with excitement.

“Cosette will beat them.” Courfeyrac say confident as Enjolras passes the ball to Grantaire.

“It looks like they are making an alliance between themselves against Cosette.” Ferry smiles, watching them.

Suddenly Marius jerks up and shouts. “Goooo, Cosette, you can do that!!!”

And the ball which Grantaire has passed to Cosette falls down. The girl slowly turns to him. “Marius, honey.”

Jehan silently shifts himself away a bit and tugs Courfeyrac with himself. 

“You’ve scared me and I missed the ball.”

“I..I didn’t want to…”

“I lose because of you, darling. If you want live.” She narrows her eyes. “Basically run.”

And with loud, wild screams she runs, trying to catch poor Pontmercy. The kids on the beach cheer her up happily.

Courfeyrac stands up and says in a serious voice. “Now, the destiny of the world is going to be changed. Two mighty worriers are fighting.” Enjolras glances at Grantaire’s mocking sarcastic smile on his thin lips. “Two equally strong knights are standing, facing each other. Let the game commence.”

Grantaire holding the ball, smirks, makes a step back a throws it by his one hand. Enjolras’s eyes are watching the flying ball and he jumps, beating it hardly. The cynic licks his lips as his hand beats a wet ball. 

Combeferre, Jehan, Courfeyrac, Jolly and Marius with Cosette, who have just returned are watching the game with a bit terrified faces. 

“They will kill each other.” Whispers Jehan, with his hand on his mouth.

“It’s like the Gladiators battle in Rome.” Marius says, rubbing his shoulder where a big red stain is visible. Cosette nods watching the ball flying from one figure to another.

“Give up, Apollo. Sometimes you have to admit that Good can’t beat the Bad.”

Enjolras beats the ball with both his hand. “You have no chance, Grantaire, believe me.”

In the dark blue eyes of the Artist appeared something dangerous for a second, but Combeferre noticed that. He holds his breath, knowing that this is going to be the end of the game. 

Grantaire jumps and hits the ball with great force, but hasn’t expected Enjolras to beat it off. Enjolras throws the ball with double force and…

All of Les Amis gasp as the ball falls. 

“Ha, I told you would never win!” Enjolras turns to his friends with a winner smile, but frowns as he notices their faces. “What’s wrong?”

Ferre stands up quickly and runs to Grantaire. “Look up, R, look up, we have to stop the blood.”

Cosette and Jehan stand up too and run to take napkins. Courfeyrac glances at Enjolras with anger. “Are you mad, dude? That was supposed to be a game!”

The leader walks to Combeferre and Grantaire, feeling that his own hands are shaking. Ferre is trying to stop the blood, pouring from the smashed nose of the Artist. 

“God, I am sorry, R, I…” he bites his lower lip as Grantaire tries to wipe the blood, but Ferre stops him.

“Well, now I see, that it is not a very good idea to tease Apollo – the all mighty God.” He smirks. “Combeferre, enough, I am not dying.”

“You can’t feel your nose, can you?” the medical student says, taking napkins from Cosette and Jehan.

“Grantaire, don’t die! I love you so much and you are so young!” begs the Poet, almost crying.

The cynic smirks. “I’ll try, Jehan. But can’t promise anything.”

Enjolras steps back, feeling himself awful. Jolly pats his shoulder. “Shit happens, man.”

Some minutes later Grantaire at last walks away from Combeferre’s healing, Jehan’s hugs, Courfeyrac’s reassurances and slowly walks to the lonely figure of the golden haired leader, sitting under the big tree.

“Hey there.” He winks.

Enjolras jerks. “I am sorry, I didn’t want that to happen.”

Grantaire sits near and shrugs. “It was a game, relax.” 

The leader sighs. 

“When you were playing, you looked powerful. You look the same like when you are giving your speeches.” The Artist smirks, watching Enjolras’s neck.

“Thank you. Can I ask you a question?” he turns his head and the amber meet the dark blue. The cynic nods. “Why are you saying that you love me all the time?”

Grantaire reminds silent for a moment, his eyes wonder to the lake and to Jolly who is running away from Courfeyrac. “Because I love you. But I don’t ask you to love me back. I am perfectly fine just to be by your side, Apollo.” He glances at his friend and laughs. “Don’t worry.”

Enjolras doesn’t understand this man at all. “Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asks.

The Artist stares at him with non- understanding face. “You? Kiss? Me? ” he laughs again watching Enjolras’s face. “You know, right now you are looking like Marius on his first date.”

And those mocking words made Enjolras to grab wet shoulders and touch the cynic’s lips, feeling the taste of blood on them. He closes his eyes, knowing that Grantaire is watching him. But the second one opens his mouth just a bit and shivers as Enjolras’s tongue carefully touches his own. The Artist hugs his friend, thinking that it is only in his head, because he has been hit by the ball rather hard. But the golden locks feel so real under his finger tips, the lips are so soft and his heart is racing. 

“I love you. I love you, Grantaire.”

That has been enough for the poor cynic. He pulls away and stares at the student near him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Enjolras’s cheeks become red, but he never minds his blush. “Can’t I have feelings?”

“You can, but not towards me. I am not capable of anything: believing, fighting, loving. Your words.”

Enjolras takes a deep breath and hangs his head. “I am sorry. I am a fuckinly stupid asshole.”

Grantaire laughs quietly. “Yes, you most definitely are. I’ve almost destroyed my liver, drinking so much because of you.”

The golden haired leader, with strange emotions, which are so alien on his face looks up. “Can I at least try?”

R thinks for a second. “I’ll think about that. I’ve thought. You can.”

Enjolras smiles uncertainly, but his smile becomes wider as Grantaire is kissing him. He feels himself strange, but positively strange. He can’t compare the kiss with anything, because right now he is kissing another person for the first time in his life. But one thing he knows for sure: even if he could compare, this one would be the best. And he wants it to continue, to wake up and see wild curls and dark blue eyes, he wants to taste these sarcastic lips and eventually make them taste less bitter. 

In the distance Courfeyrac and Jehan silently dancing a victory dance.

“Told you all of these would work!!” Grins Courfeyrac.

“I had no doubts in that, Courf.”


End file.
